


feel like a kid; never thought it'd feel like this

by hotcouchpotat0



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Communication is hard, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Future Fic, Growing Up, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov are Yuri Plisetsky's Parents, Katsuki Yuuri in Russia, Kid Fic, M/M, Parents Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Podium Family, Post-Canon, Yuri is 20, it's just yuuri and yuri having a Talk, or more like his big brothers, otabek and victor are more or less not present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15088856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotcouchpotat0/pseuds/hotcouchpotat0
Summary: Yuri has recently turned 20 and has realized that things are changing fast in his life. Like, really fast. Victor and Yuuri have a baby that is already growing up way too fast, Mila is suddenly moving out of their shared apartment, and Otabek has taken the chance to ask to move in.He goes to Yuuri to vent (and maybe freak out a little) because being an adult is freakin' terrifying.





	feel like a kid; never thought it'd feel like this

**Author's Note:**

> Been a reeeallllly long time since I've posted fanfiction (we're talking, like, 10 years), but it was really fun to get back into it. This fandom is pretty special, and these characters are incredible so it was a privilege to play with them like this.
> 
> Really though, I just need more content of Yuuri and Yuri being bros and hanging out in Russia and being mutually supportive. I kind of imagine Yuri taking Yuuri under his wing for a while when he arrives in Russia and then as Yuuri gets more comfortable he returns the favor by basically being Yuri's new pal/big brother haha
> 
> Also: a baby!! I kind of figure that Victor is dying to expand his Love and Life after a few years by growing their family <3
> 
> (Title is from Ben Rector's "Brand New")

[Video description: a baby boy, roughly just under a year old, faces the camera, holding onto a coffee table for balance with one hand while waving a cracker with the other. A poodle zips by behind the baby and nabs the cracker on its way past. The baby goes to eat the snack out of his hand until he realizes it’s gone. The camera goes shaky as the one holding it begins to laugh as the baby stares blankly at his empty hand. As the baby crumples forward, face-down on the coffee table and starts to wail, Yuuri can be heard reassuring the baby through his laughter that he’ll go get him another cracker.]

 **yuurikatsuki:** i’d stop makkachin because he knows better and that’s the second time he’s done it, but it was just so funny that i couldn’t #sorrybaby #nomakkachin #katsukinikiforovfamily

_66,351 plays_

**phichit+chu:** YUURI!!! i have to come visit. that baby is TOO CUTE and getting TOO BIG.

 **yuurikatsuki:** @phichit+chu he already grew out of the detroit hoodie you sent :// but he likes his hamster blanket

 **phichit+chu:** @yuurikatsuki i’m literally buying a plane ticket right now 

**v-nikiforov:** MY BABIES ! i’m coming home as fast as i can ((( love you miss you see you soon

 **yuurikatsuki:** @v-nikiforov  <3

 **victoronskates:** M Y HE AR T T T TTT AUGHSG KSHFBSBFJKFB

 **katsudamn:** holy shit this family i can’t even can they be any cuter ?? kill me

 **chrisgiacomeatme:** A RARE YUURI SIGHTING ON INSTAGRAM ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS @skateonmyface @katsudaddy @viknikisthicc @quadlutz @iceicebaby44 ????

 **christophe-gc:** how dare you abuse my godson in this way?? 

**yuurikatsuki:** @christophe-gc i’m sending you a picture right now of him with his replacement cracker as proof that he is being well cared for, despite what this video may imply

 **christophe-gc:** @yuurikatsuki a good start. I will also require more pictures of my darling GODSON to make up for the transgressions.

 **yuri-plisetsky:** i’m coming over

 **yuurikatsuki:** @yuri-plisestsky the door is open for you

* * *

Yuri entered the apartment to the sounds of a baby happily shrieking in the living room and running water in the kitchen.

He kicked his shoes off into the pile next to the door — a pile that a year ago would have just been a neatly arranged line of shoes, obsessively matched with heels touching, but it was also a pile that wouldn’t have included tiny sneakers or rain boots — and shucked his jacket before walking out of the entranceway.

Stepping off of the hardwood of the entranceway and onto the plush carpet of the living room where the baby, Hiro, played, he felt the tense wire of nerves in his shoulders relax just marginally.

In a time of years past, before Yuuri, Yuri remembered this living room being pretty different. Smaller for sure, but that was before his massive growth spurt at 16. Minimalistic maybe? Either way, completely unlived in. Incrementally though, Yuuri’s presence had seemed to seep into the apartment. Bit by bit, the hard, imported loveseats and empty end tables were replaced with plush, nap-ready couches and an entertainment system overflowing with video games and movies and books. Yuri had racked up hours in this room playing co-op games, Assassin’s Creed, Final Fantasy, Persona games and more with Yuuri at his side. 

At Yuri’s approach, Hiro turned from where he’d been lying on his stomach, smacking blocks together in the middle of the room on a blanket next to Makkachin’s napping spot, and squealed a different note. He held his arms up to be held, blocks abandoned in his need for Yuri’s immediate attention.

“Hey, kid,” Yuri said, his shoulders unwinding another inch as he squatted down to Hiro’s level to comply. Yuri pulled him in close to ruffle his wispy black hair and give him a tight cuddle before pulling back to see what was new with Hiro. He looked a little different every time Yuri came by, and he was trying hard to catalog the changes as they came, minute as they could be. Yuri could clearly remember noticing the first time Hiro’s hair got long enough to touch the top of his ear and when his little-old-man bald spot on the top of his head had started to shrink. He also remembered watching as Hiro’s tiny hand went from an unbelievably small thing that couldn’t quite grip his thumb all the way around to a slightly larger small thing that barely filled his palm. Hiro was obviously becoming a tiny person, but he was also still itty-bitty.

Today, Hiro was dressed in tiny sweatpants and a little hoodie proclaiming, “If you think I’m cute, you should see my godfather!” Yuri had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he remembered Christophe proudly showing it off at the baby shower/adoption party everyone had thrown together the summer before when they’d brought Hiro home.

Across the way, the sink finally stopped running and Yuuri popped his head over the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room.

“Hi!” Yuuri called. Yuri could see he was lugging a bin of vegetables from the sink to the counter where a cutting board and a variety of knives were waiting.

Had this been five years ago, Yuri probably would have blurted out an emphatic, truthful, “You look like shit.” Yuuri’s hair was a mess and he looked completely exhausted with horrible bags under his eyes and an outfit that had clearly just been thrown on without much thought — an old pair of his track pants that he’d retired after they’d somehow had a run-in with bleach in the wash (Victor’s fault, Yuri was sure) and a holey Wayne State University t-shirt that Yuri knew Yuuri only wore at home when he knew no one of note would see.

Had this been five years ago, he probably also would have followed up that comment with a sharp comment about Victor abandoning Yuuri and being garbage, but he liked to think that time had given him a better brain-to-mouth filter. Plus, he understood better now than he had before what it meant and what it cost to be in a long-distance relationship, even if Victor was only gone for the rest of the week

Instead, he settled for a more sedate, “Hey,” before turning away with the baby in his arms so that Yuuri couldn’t see him smush his face into the top of Hiro’s head again, breathing in the calming baby scent.

 _Don’t change,_ Yuri mentally commanded Hiro. _You stay small and soft, you got that?_ Hiro made a happy screech into his shoulder.

“I’m just trying to do some meal prep for the week. You caught us at a good time — last week he was cutting another tooth and it was non-stop screaming here. Victor and him both. Heh. And I know last time you came by he was napping, but it seems you don’t have to worry about that either because he apparently _doesn’t sleep anymore_ without Victor to read to him first. In person. And Skype isn’t good enough. So we haven’t slept much. Also don’t mind his hoodie; I’m just contractually bound by Christophe to make him wear that whenever I send him pictures.” Yuri listened to Yuuri ramble as he continued moving around the kitchen, gathering what he needed for whatever it was he was making.

Yuuri wasn’t normally this talkative and Yuri had to wonder how much Victor’s prolonged absence was getting to Yuuri, especially with no one for company but a baby. Yuri was wondering vaguely if he should have thought to offer to babysit at some point — _is that what other adults would have done?_ — when he tuned back in.

“What have you been up to recently?” Yuuri was asking as he came around the corner of the kitchen and into the living room. “You haven’t been by since, like... your birthday, I guess? And you don’t usually pop in like this either.”

Yuri didn’t respond immediately, instead jiggling Hiro in place some, feeling the deep ache in his hip from a recent spill, and absently redirecting Hiro’s reaching fingers as they tried to tangle in the flyaway strands from his bun. His garbled non-words were loud in Yuri’s ear. 

Where to even start.

What _had_ he been up to?

He’d turned 20. That’d been a thing. 

He’d been practicing another quad for his repertoire and had gotten a particularly nasty bruise on his right hip that was making off-ice training rather difficult at the moment. That’d been a thing.

He’d enrolled part-time at the university in St. Petersburg for the coming fall because he didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do yet when his body fell apart like Victor’s had started to and his hip _hurt_ so who knew when that might be and that thought was. Well. That’d been a thing.

And Mila had announced plans to move out of their shared apartment. That’d been a thing.

And then Otabek had asked to move in together. And. That’d. Also been… a thing.

A thing that Yuri was still processing.

“... Is everything okay?” Yuuri was suddenly asking, and he was also suddenly much closer than Yuri had anticipated, standing right next to him in the living room on the same side of the couch that had been separating them before.

Immediately, Yuri stumbled back, caught off guard, and his hip smacked into the armrest of the couch _right on the bruise (“Motherfuck —")_ and he nearly toppled over the coffee table that was behind his knees. Before Yuri could even think to redirect his near-topple, Yuuri had instinctively snatched the baby from Yuri’s arms.

They froze like that, Yuri half-falling backward onto the table and Yuuri half-lunging forward with Hiro in his hands, wide-eyed and unbreathing while Hiro kicked his legs and babbled out a string of high-pitched nonsense, unconcerned with his near disaster.

In unison, they both let out huge breaths of relief.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked after a moment of adrenaline-dispelling silence. Yuri could see him going over all the ways that could have turned out badly in the back of his mind as he pulled the baby closer to his chest.

“Yeah,” Yuri said, still a little breathless. He turned away slightly to try and hide how rattled he was.

Normally he was graceful and powerful and in command and not startled like a stupid, skittish animal to the point where he _couldn’t even be trusted to be an adult and take care of the baby and —_

Suddenly Yuri found Yuuri nudging his shoulder to turn him around.

“Okay, sit down. Sit,” Yuuri commanded flatly. Yuri flumped backwards onto the cushions as directed and looked away, suddenly desperately uncomfortable. Yuuri sat next to him with barely more grace than Yuri had bothered with and moved Hiro to stand on his knees with his help so he could bounce and shout a bit.

Yuri wondered whether he should just quickly apologize and leave. Yuuri was solo-parenting right now. He had enough to deal with and Yuri was suddenly regretting adding to the list of things worrying Yuuri. Before he could get up or choke out an apology though, Yuuri asked directly, “What’s going on?”

“... Mila is moving out,” Yuri said after a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“I heard,” Yuuri said lightly. They sat quietly again for a moment. Yuuri was clearly waiting for something more.

“And…” Yuri suddenly didn’t have the words for it. He didn’t have the energy to talk about it anymore. He regretted coming.

He swallowed and avoided eye contact, silently staring at a picture hung by the TV that Phichit had taken of the group on a night out before a competition in Oslo a few years ago. It had been a challenge to get everyone in the shot, so he was up on top of Otabek’s shoulders, smile massive and young-looking as he showed off double-V’s with his fingers. V for victory, for feeling on top of the world, feeling invincible, feeling like this was forever and he knew what he was doing and what was to come.

Yuri fidgeted uncomfortably, running his hands over his knees distractedly, but Yuuri just sat by his side while Yuri gathered his thoughts. Yuri could think of other times he’d waited him out like this before on this couch — when Potya wasn’t doing well and Yuri had been a mess about it, when Yakov and him had had a serious fight about who should be coaching him, when Otabek had asked if Yuri wanted to be more than friends a year and a half ago… 

Yuri couldn’t shake the feeling that, from the way Yuuri was looking at him out of the corner of his eye as he let Hiro wiggle to the floor to go explore, Yuuri had already caught on to what was more or less going on.

Yuri watched Hiro reach Makkachin’s side and push his hands experimentally into her furry side. She opened an eye to check on him then went back to her nap. 

“... Otabek asked to move in,” Yuri finally choked out. Yuuri didn’t even seem surprised by the news.

“And you said?” 

“I said, ‘Yeah, of course. Absolutely. Let’s do it.’ And then I hung up.”

“Ahhhhhh…” Yuuri hummed, nodding as he fit in this major puzzle piece to the picture. “Well. Oh no," he finished lightly.

Yuri nodded to himself, running his hand through his long hair to get it out of his face. He knew that hadn’t been an ideal way to respond (hanging up at a moment like that rarely is), and he also hadn’t heard from Otabek in about two days even though they almost always managed to text at least once a day. However, even though he’d come here with the intention of bugging Yuuri with his distress, something about seeing the understanding dawn on Yuuri’s face made Yuri want to throw the brakes on.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said in a rush. “And the logistics of it just kind of make sense since Mila is leaving and he just graduated, and we’ve been together a long time now, and we practically live together whenever he’s here on breaks and this is what’s next in relationships, and. It’s just. It’s. Well, it makes sense is all.”

Yuuri was frowning a little again, not quite looking at Yuri as he thought about that.

“I mean,” Yuuri started slowly.

Yuri felt like Yuuri was about to probe for something and he had to fight not to throw up all of his usual barbed wires at having his feelings examined like this. _You asked for this,_ Yuri told himself sternly, trying to swallow down the need to lash out to protect himself. _You literally came over to get his take on this._

Had it been a few years ago, he would have gotten prickly and defensive immediately without thinking twice, but Yuuri and him had come a long way. Yuuri had always treated him like an equal, like someone he cared about and wanted to succeed just as much as he wanted to compete against. Yuri had eventually let himself see that after enough time spent razzing and trash talking each other on this couch over Mario Kart, but it had taken some time.

“It doesn’t have to come next if you don’t want it to,” Yuuri finished. “It’s your relationship. It doesn’t have to follow any particular order or timeline, you know.”

“Well, duh,” Yuri said, already dismissing that direction, but Yuuri wasn’t done.

“Do you _want_ him to move in?”

“Of course!” Yuri said immediately, halfway to outraged that he’d even have to confirm that, but then found himself backtracking. “I mean. It’s not that I _don’t_ want him to move in.”

Yuri bit his lip. Was that actually it? Had he ever asked himself this? He didn’t _think_ that was the problem. When he imagined living with Otabek, like, _living_ -living with him rather than just for a few days or weeks at a time like they did on and off throughout the year, Yuri felt nothing but thrilled. He pictured them waking up together (or, rather, Otabek getting up and going for his morning run and bringing back some tea from the shop he knew Yuri liked nearby while Yuri put together some sort of palatable protein concoction for the both of them), and sharing rink time, and bitching and joking together about their weird neighbors and Yuri’s new coursework and classmates and Yakov and Mila and the idiot couple. They’d adopt a million cats and fill the apartment with Beka’s DJ equipment and medals and their entire lives, intertwined now both in mind and material. And it was great. He loved all of that.

But something. Something about it felt… wrong. Or, rather, scary? What was it? Yuri was jerked out of his jumbled thoughts with another question.

“But are you _ready_ for him to move in?”

“What’s the difference?” Yuri asked, confused and edging on frustrated. The question felt pointless. _Why was Yuuri being so slow on the uptake here?_ Yuri wanted to demand. He’d _just_ said he wanted it.

“Between what, wanting it and being ready for it? A lot, really,” Yuuri said, shrugging. "I wanted lots of things with Victor before I was ready for them."

Yuri opened his mouth to voice his confusion when a _thunk_ had them both whipping around to spot Hiro who had just clunked his head on the windowsill as he’d pulled himself up to stand. There was a moment of charged silence as both Yuri and Yuuri held their breath, cringing and waiting to see how the stunned baby would react.

By the time Hiro had decided that crying about his new bump was worth the effort and was sucking in a huge breath to wail properly, Yuuri was already halfway across the room. Yuri was left to watch helplessly as Yuuri scooped Hiro up to coo at him, offering comfort as he whisked him off to the kitchen to find an ice pack, Makkachin anxiously trotting alongside them, whining in the back of his throat.

This left Yuri alone for a minute in the living room, listening to Hiro’s crying from the kitchen behind him and swirling in his thoughts of an imagined future, filled with the same lived-in domesticity he was sitting in. The room had so many signs of shared lives; the soft toys and books scattered on the carpet, a paperback left facedown to mark a page on the armrest of the squashy chair, the pile of partially sorted mail on the end table and partially sorted laundry in a basket in front of the TV. Yuri wanted that. He _did_. But. He supposed it was worth asking himself what Yuuri had: Was he ready for it?

And maybe that was just it.

As much as he wanted to go to sleep pressed against each other every night and casually meet each other for lunch between his classes whenever he wanted and go for motorcycle rides through the fields and woods outside the urban center of St. Petersburg, he just. Wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

It all just seemed so… grown up?

In fact, it seemed so jarringly adult that Yuri suddenly felt like he could feel the passing of time flowing right over him. It was like standing on the precipice of something huge, something he’d been being nudged toward bit by bit for years and he was finally on the edge. He’d had ages to prepare, but was he ready? He knew he was in his twenties now. He was well aware of that, thanks — his hip was telling him as much right then as he stretched his leg out in front of him and he felt the deep ache in it again from the bruise — and Yuri was already used to being independent. In so many ways, he’d been an adult since 13 when he’d come to train permanently with Yakov in St. Petersburg, away from all the family he had and the life he knew.

But this was different. This wasn’t learning how to get stains out of his practice shirts or cooking blini without help or remembering without being reminded to set alarms loud enough to get him up in the morning — this was proper adult. Proper _old_.

Just as he reached that conclusion, Yuuri came back with a whimpering Hiro perched on his hip, gently holding a dripping ice pack to the baby’s forehead.

“I know, baby, it hurts. You’re being so brave right now,” Yuuri was saying soothingly in Japanese as he settled back onto the couch with Yuri. He switched back into the Russian they’d been using to address Yuri again. “I wish Victor were here right now. He’s so much better at this part of things,” he admitted ruefully.

“No, he's not," Yuri instantly scoffed. No one was allowed to diss Yuuri in front of him, not even Yuuri. "And even if that were true, that’d just be because Victor is a big baby, so he knows what it’s like.” 

Yuuri snorted but didn’t disagree, smiling slightly as he moved the ice pack to see the growing bump on the baby’s forehead. Yuri reached out to brush his fingers against Hiro’s chubby cheek, and they all sat quietly for a moment as Hiro settled into quieter hitched breaths and light, displeased whines.

“Do you ever feel… old?”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what Yuri had wanted to say, or how he wanted to ask about it, but. Well. Close enough. That was all Yuuri was getting out of him for now.

Yuri chanced a glance at Yuuri to see how he was processing the question only to find him staring at him, eyes squinted. 

“Is this a real question or is this the setup to something about Victor’s age?” Yuuri asked suspiciously. Yuri groaned, slouching more deeply into the couch. He didn’t want to have this conversation anymore.

“I’m _serious_ ,” he whined, dragging out the last syllable to emphasize the indignity Yuuri was causing him. Part of him wanted to snatch the question back, resolutely tell him to nevermind, and leave — maybe even stomp out for the added effect. But he stayed planted where he was.

“Do I feel old,” Yuuri murmured distantly, processing the question.

While he mulled it over, Yuri watched Yuuri set the ice pack aside as Hiro batted it away agitatedly, whining slightly, already done with being fussed over. Yuuri gently put Hiro on his feet between his own knees where he could hang onto the edge of the couch and reach the toys scattered on the floor at the same time. Hiro picked up a beaten-up stuffed tiger that Yuri had gotten him when he’d come home from the hospital for the first time and shook it over his head at Yuri, giving a rather piercing shriek. Yuri’s heart burst with furious love for the drooly little ball of chub.

“Well,” Yuuri finally started, “Yeah, sometimes I feel old. I’m married and have a kid now. And I’m retiring which is kind of a long time coming. So, that’s. Well,” Yuuri waved a hand near his face vaguely, as if he were dispelling the thought. Yuri felt vaguely twitchy about hearing that last bit again but he swallowed whatever emotion _that_ was supposed to be. One thing at a time. “And sometimes I’ll look at my parents or Mari and think about how they were when I was younger, or how they seemed to me, at least, and that can make me feel old, too.”

Hiro gave another piercing shriek right then, batting his palm onto the tabletop, so Yuuri paused to give him the pacifier that was sitting at the ready.

“But,” Yuri continued hesitatingly, leaning back again and watching Hiro crumple to the carpet to crawl haltingly back to Makkachin who’d returned to her napping spot after Hiro had stopped crying, “I also look forward to everything that comes next and feel pretty young.”

Yuri sat in that for a minute, arms crossed and chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, I think I’m just,” Yuri waved his hand in the air loosely, trying to encompass all that was happening in his head. “Really feeling time passing right now. Or. Like. Really noticing how much has happened and that I’m not 15 anymore and stuff.”

Yuuri snorted.

“Believe me,” he laughed as he stretched, settling more comfortably into his corner of the couch, “We’ve all noticed you’re not 15 anymore, and we’re all very thankful for it.”

Yuri reached over to smack Yuuri’s shoulder indignantly as Yuuri laughed, but Yuri had to bite back a smile too. Fifteen had been... a rough age for him and everyone around him. By 20 he could admit that much at least. Honestly, he would be thankful if he were out of the picture for a bit when Hiro hit that age if he turned out anything like Yuri.

“But I think maybe what makes the difference in how we see these things is how quickly we have to transition,” Yuuri said. “A lot of big changes in a short amount of time might make you look back and realize you’re a different person than you were even a year or two ago, rather than more gradual changes over, say, a decade.”

Yuri threw his feet up on the edge of the coffee table and dropped his head back to stare at the unmarked ceiling. Everything in the apartment had been redone or altered since Yuuri had arrived except the plain white ceilings. At least some things don’t change.

“I guess,” Yuri agreed, wiggling to put less weight on his hip. He rolled his lolled head to look at Yuuri sideways, who was looking rather drowsy himself. “Things _have been_ changing really fast, but it never really felt like it until now.”

Suddenly, staring at Yuuri’s 3DS where it was charging in its usual place on the far end table, where it had lived for about five years now, Yuri realized what felt so different about this milestone he was approaching with Otabek.

One of the main relationships that Yuri had always looked to, unconsciously or not, as a model for what he had with Beka, was Victor and Yuuri’s. And while the two of them had been bizarrely fast and furious at the start of their relationship, jumping from that impulsive summer together (which Yuri was only just beginning to actually forgive Victor for) to engagement rings, none of it had felt real or permanent to Yuri until Yuuri had moved into Victor’s apartment and they’d started working to transform the cold apartment into a home together. Yuri knew there had been more in between that he’d missed while he wasn’t in Japan, but, in his eyes, the real start of that relationship was when they’d moved in together in Russia.

If Otabek moved in, this would feel as real and permanent and adult as Victor and Yuuri seemed to him.

And it wasn’t as if he’d ever even thought about an end to what he and Beka had — never. Not once.

But. 

Not seeing an end and seeing a long path forward were _two very different things._

And now that Yuri acknowledged it, he very much wanted to freak out suddenly. 

Yuri shot out of his seat, his hip twinging almost hard enough to bring him straight back down. “Are we going to get _married?”_ he shouted.

 _“What?”_ Yuuri sputtered, suddenly seeming much more awake again.

“I mean,” Yuri was pacing, feeling oddly frantic. “I mean I mean I _mean_ I’m not, like, _opposed_ to that, and it’s not like I’ve never _imagined it,_ but I am not ready for that! Holy fuck, are we really getting married?” 

“Hang on, hang on, hang on,” Yuuri cut him off, looking alarmed as he climbed to his feet. “What are you talking about? Did he propose or something? What am I missing? I'm so lost.”

Yuri barely heard him though, already shooting down his own own train of thought as he moved restlessly around the room, circling the spot where Makkachin and Hiro were inquisitively watching him from the floor.

“Oh my God, everything is just changing way too fast. You have a baby suddenly and Mila is talking about disappearing for like a year to go backpacking or something, and stupid Victor is suddenly involved in all these ISU meetings like they’re trying to get him to come lead the sport into the future or some bullshit, and Yakov is talking about retiring, and you are retiring, and just, like, some of that stuff is cool! But a lot of it sucks too! And it never stops! And Otabek doesn’t even seem to think about these things!” Yuri plunged on, voice speeding up incrementally as he continued to pace and gesture wildly. He felt like a balloon that’d had its string cut just as a gust of wind came by. He was buffeted by the conflicting directions of his mind, moving too fast to firmly grasp on any particular train of thought. He was going to fly right off of that cliff he’d been standing at the edge of earlier. He was airborne and completely free falling. 

“Otabek just says exactly what he’s thinking and never seems to question his decisions or let anything shake him and here _I_ am, making a massive deal about something that’s clearly been coming for months and everyone seems to have known about it but me even though it’s _my life_ and —” 

_“Hey.”_ Yuuri was suddenly in his face, eyes determined and steady. “Hey. Here.”

Yuri suddenly had an armful of warm baby and he was immediately pulled up short as if Yuuri had pulled the ripcord on his parachute.

“Ahhhhhh,” Hiro intoned, mouth opening wide to squeal a long fluctuating note, letting his pacifier drop to the floor and kicking his legs hard in the air.

Yuri sank heavily onto the couch with Hiro in his hands. He felt completely drained.

“I’m making tea,” Yuuri said firmly as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Yuri sat quietly on the couch, letting Hiro kneel on his thighs and tug on his hoodie drawstring and quiet his thoughts. Incrementally, he felt like he was coming back to himself until he felt much more physically and mentally present than he had just moments before.

From his pocket, his phone dinged. He pulled it out to stare at a text from Otabek — the first since his abrupt shutdown the day before last.

**Beks: look. she likes me almost as much as she likes you. [image attached]**

Yuri opened the picture to see half of a selfie from Otabek, only his impassive eyes and forehead visible. The rest of the image was the Altin family’s new kitten clinging to the top of his head, mouth open mid-meow

He took in the picture for a long moment before dashing off a reply.

**Me: super cute. i still like you most though. she can’t have you.**

Yuri hoped he could pick up on the coded olive branch in there.

Letting out a long breath, Yuri tried to relax. He tucked the phone back in his pocket and reached down to the floor, keeping Hiro tucked to his chest as he snagged the stuffed tiger off the carpet.

“Rawr,” he growled at Hiro as he sat back. Yuri made the tiger stalk up and down Hiro’s arms as he stretched his chubby fingers for it, breaking into peals of adorable giggles. Soon the tiger was chomping on Hiro’s fingers and tickling his sides, making Hiro shout with laughter.

“Tea,” Yuuri said just then, emerging from the kitchen, “And an ice pack.” 

Yuri looked at Yuuri with confusion as Yuuri dropped the frozen pack on his lap.

“You’re limping. Don’t pretend you’re not. I’m a dad now. I see everything.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, flushing darkly, but accepted it quietly, wedging it against his hip and the couch cushion with some relief. 

Yuuri set one of the two mugs he’d brought down on the coffee table and reached out with his free hand to poke a finger into Hiro’s side, making him squirm and giggle again as Yuuri resettled on the couch with the other mug. Hiro ( _the traitor,_ Yuri thought,) clambered across the couch to climb into his dad’s lap to babble at him some, smacking his shoulders. Yuuri turned his focus to his son for the moment to nod and make, “Oh! I see!” noises while Yuri reached forward to doctor his drink with the tea basket they kept on the table there. Two scoops of jam, the same way Victor took his. It was one of the small things that had bonded them years back in Japan where everything was just, so… _not-Russia._

Once he’d settled back and was taking small sips from the scalding tea, Yuuri broke their silence.

“So. You wanna talk about all that?” Yuuri waited on an answer with eyebrows raised high over his glasses as if to say, _“I’m patient but I need some answers.”_

“Not really,” Yuri said after a moment, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little sheepishly, thinking about the nearly manic feeling that had overtaken him.

“Okay, well, then, I’ll talk some,” Yuuri said decisively. It seemed like he’d been putting together some words as he brewed the tea. Yuri wasn’t sure he wanted to hear them. “So. You don’t have to marry Otabek if you don’t want to. Obviously. You don’t even have to move in together if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to stay together if that’s not what you want.”

Instantly, Yuri’s mouth was open, a resounding, _“We’re not breaking up!”_ on the tip of his tongue, but Yuuri held his hand up, eyes closed tiredly. Yuri shut up.

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to or anything you’re not ready for. You’re not locked into anything by being together, marriage or otherwise. You do what feels right for both of you at the right time. If this isn’t the right time, don’t do it.”

“That said,” Yuuri continued after a poignant pause that included a bit of a staredown between the two of them over the top of Hiro’s head, “One of the ways that I deal with things when I get worried is to ask myself what might happen — all the really horrible, worst-case scenarios I’ve made — and then ask myself what’s most likely to actually happen. So. What might happen if you move in together?”

“We come to resent each other and it ends in a tragic double-murder.”

“Sure,” Yuuri agreed amiably.

“Or I find out that he eats with his mouth open and doesn’t mind wet socks and doesn’t actually like cats and was just skating to destroy his feet and knees for fun.”

“Uh huh,” Yuuri intoned, rolling his eyes.

“... Or,” Yuri sucked in a breath through his teeth, drumming his fingers on his knee. “Or we take a really big step that we’re not ready for and find out we can’t hack it.”

Yuuri nodded slowly, jogging his knee lightly to bounce Hiro. He seemed a bit out of it.

“And what’s most likely to happen if you move in together?”

“We... find out if it works for us or not and we have an adult conversation about what that means if it doesn’t and rework things if we need to.”

Yuri felt like he deserved a round of applause for getting through that wall of emotions to end up here, but Yuuri instead just sank back into the couch, going limp and boneless as sipped his tea and closed his eyes. Hiro flopped pliantly across his chest to babble some more nonsense.

“You know, getting older can be weird and scary but isn’t this,” Yuuri flicked a lazy finger between the two of them as if to encompass their entire relationship, “kind of nice? Getting older and being able to talk like this?” In the back of his mind, Yuri wondered whether he meant this about Yuri getting older and more mature or his own depth of understanding for relationships. Either way, Yuri had to agree.

“I guess,” he said, trying to sound slightly put-upon, a bit sullen, but he couldn’t quite manage it around his smile.

Just then, Yuri’s phone went off. He plucked it back out to read Otabek’s short response.

**Beks: well of course. i’m all yours.**

Yuri stared at the phone idly, rereading the simple message until the screen went dark. Another text lit up his home screen a moment later.

**Beks: but you’re all mine too. not even she can have you-- even if she did keep bringing you mice when you visited.**

He felt the knot in his shoulders finally unwind all the way, and he was filled with a slow, electric warmth that shot through him then sizzled in his center.

He unlocked his phone to reply, fighting another smile.

 **Me: but you never bring me mice. how can i really know this is real with no mice**

Suddenly, through the power of this dumb exchange, Yuri was weightless in the best way. He was still falling here, tangled in his fears and daunted by the enormity of what the future may bring, but he knew one thing for sure: Otabek was waiting to meet him below wherever he landed.

Yuri turned to Yuuri, opening his mouth to let him know that he was going to call Otabek later, when he realized Yuuri was dead asleep.

For half a moment, Yuri considered being obnoxious and waking him up to accuse him of not giving him and Hiro his full attention, but thought better of it immediately. He plucked the empty mug out of Yuuri’s limp fingers and stood up to stretch. His hip still ached but the ice had helped some to numb it. 

“Alright, kid,” Yuri said imperiously, scooping Hiro off Yuuri’s chest who burbled happily, “It’s just you and me. How about we start by getting you in some _real_ clothes?”

* * *

[Image description: A selfie with Yuri sitting cross-legged in front of the living room couch with Hiro settled in his lap. Hiro is now in a tiger-striped hoodie, with the hood up to show tiny ears and whiskers. Yuri has one of Hiro’s hand curled into a tiny clawed paw and Yuri is wearing a ferocious snarl on his lips. Over Yuri’s shoulder, Yuuri can be seen passed out with arms crossed, back propped up against the armrest, and his head flopped sideways onto the back of the couch. His glasses are askew and there’s a blanket thrown over his legs.]

_26,891 likes_

**@yuri-plisestsky:** victor abandoned his family and yuuri is out for the count, so we’re fending for ourselves out here. #victorisabaddad #ferocioustigercub #imincharge #mycitynow

 **@v-nikiforov:** so cute!!!!! but so cruel!!! i’m on my way home as fast as i can and you KNOW THAT. 

**@v-nikiforov:** also thank you for letting him sleep i know he needed it. What a good uncle.  <3

 **@yuri-plisestsky:** @v-nikiforov shut up

 **@christophe-gc:** excuse me what happened to the beautiful outfit i got pictures of earlier

 **@yuri-plisestsky:** @christophe-gc shut up this is way better

 **@otabek-altin:** cute

 **@yuri-plisestsky:** @otabek-altin call me

* * *

Later that night, (hours after Yuuri had jolted awake with a half-shout, whipping around to look for Hiro only to find the two of them building a zoo for predators on the living room floor), Yuri was laying in bed on the phone with Otabek.

“You have to stop using Instagram comments as an alternative to texting,” Otabek said flatly.

“Meh,” Yuri said sleepily, stretching to cuddle Potya better. She was feeling more cuddly tonight and he couldn’t be more thankful. An afternoon with Hiro put him in the mood to hold small, soft things.

Outside his room, he could hear Mila on the phone as well, noisily talking to Sara as she bumped around her own room doing some pre-move out decluttering.

“Anyway, there are mice in the mail for you,” Otabek promised in the same flat tone he used for everything, but Yuri was well-versed in Otabek and he could hear the joking in his voice.

“Potya will be thrilled.”

“It’s not for Potya, it’s for you. I have to win you back. I can’t lose to a kitten.” Yuri grinned at the ceiling, still stupidly charmed by the things that Otabek could say with a straight face.

“You won’t,” Yuri promised before changing gears. “Oh, hey, when are you thinking about moving in? We should make some plans.”

“You really want to?” Yuri could see Otabek raising his eyebrows in his mind’s eye, but he was too thrown to focus on the image like he wanted to.

“Yes? I mean, what? Why wouldn’t I?” Yuri sat up in bed, Potya still kneading his stomach softly. He clutched her lightly. “I said yes. I said absolutely.”

“Yeah, and then you hung up immediately. Getting some mixed signals.”

“Oh.” Somehow Yuri had hoped they wouldn’t have to talk about that after they’d broken any tension they’d had earlier. “Well. I guess I got a little freaked out about, like, how big that is to me? But I talked to Yuuri today and he chilled me out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It was helpful. And I’m onboard for this.” Yuri meant what he said but his heart was pounding. “One hundred percent, let’s do this. You and me.”

“Okay,” Otabek said, and, although he seemed to be purposefully keeping a leash on it, Yuri could tell how pleased he was. “But was it the mice that cemented this for you? Because I can send more.”

As Yuri began a list of demands for the variety of animals that he required in order to be courted properly, he couldn’t help but think that maybe if this is what he had to look forward to, then, come what may, forever might be an idea he could handle.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr as hot couch potato (without the spaces). Please feel free to dm me!


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